Tell the Wolves I’m Home by Carol Rifka Brunt
Coming-of-age turns terribly sad and surreptitiously disturbing. Kaleidoscope of grief.
Filed under Uncategorized
Tagged as 1980s New York, AIDS, art, artists, book review, Carol Rifka Brunt, family secrets, loss and grief, sisters, Tell the Wolves I'm Home
A word about Robert Bruno
I met Bob Bruno in NYC in the 80s. We were both waiting in line to get in somewhere when I noticed him a few feet ahead of me. I went up to him and said, “You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen and if I’m going to wait in this line, I’m going to do it with you.” We became friends and whenever I saw him he was impeccably dressed. He was erudite and kind and successful in his corner of publishing. I was heartbroken to learn that he had AIDS. It was a death sentence then and took its toll quickly. If you’ve never lost someone to this disease, you can’t begin to imagine the terrible suffering it inflicts. When I visited him in the hospital, I couldn’t hug him because anything touching his skin would hurt. The only positive was that frequent hallucinations were taking him someplace lovely in Italy. I could do nothing for him except vow that he would live forever in my heart. His name was Bob Bruno. He lived.
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Google+ account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of new comments via email.
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Join 538 other followers